


Aborted fights, pancakes, explanations (and hugs!)

by thetwistedcelestials



Series: Touch [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetwistedcelestials/pseuds/thetwistedcelestials
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a rare day off, the Sheriff decides to make some breakfast with his son.  When he goes to wake Stiles up, he finds not one, but two nearly naked men in Stiles' bed.  Needless to say, he jumps to the wrong conclusions.  But it's Stiles' reaction that surprises his pack the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aborted fights, pancakes, explanations (and hugs!)

Scott growled, eyes glowing amber. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Cute, Scott.” Derek rolled his eyes at the display. “Look, I’m your Alpha now. Which means when I tell you to come to training, you don’t ignore me for a week.”

Scott’s growl increased in volume, deepening. “Yeah, you’re the Alpha now. Because you took away the one chance I had of being human again! Of being normal! _Why should I listen to anything you say?_ ”

Derek, losing his patience, returned the growl as his own eyes began to glow. “Don’t push me, pup.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa guys! Let’s not get all wolfed-out here.” Stiles waved his hands, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. “Can’t we just talk it out? You know, without the claws?”

The two werewolves ignored him, locked in their stare down. Stiles bit his lip as he saw the signs they were shifting. A part of his mind was fascinated with the controlled shifts, watching their claws inch longer and their shoulder muscles thicken. The rest of him was calculating how much noise and damage his room could withstand before the neighbors called the cops. Who just happened to be his dad. _Man, sometimes being the sheriff’s son really sucks..._

The two werewolves continued growling, each lowering into a fighting stance. When they started circling one another, Stiles began to panic a little. _Okay…so…what do I know about pack dynamics? If Derek is the Alpha and Scott is a Beta…oh hell…_

It looked like Scott was challenging Derek for the position of Alpha. Whether or not that would involve a fight to the death between the werewolves, Stiles was _pretty sure_ his dad was going to kill him for the resulting property damage. Or possibly the secrets he had been keeping. Maybe both. _So…how do I defuse this situation?_

Oh crap…

Stiles just realized the werewolves were circling around him, putting Stiles in the middle of a werewolf battle. _Probably time to figure out what to do now. Before the rending of flesh begins._

“Hey guys? Could you put the claws away? Tender, squishy human here. You don’t want to accidentally maul me, right?”

If Derek backed down, then he would be conceding to Scott’s challenge, which would make Scott the Alpha. Stiles thought about the possibility of Scott leading their little wolf pack. _Yeah…not such a good idea._ So that means Stiles had to make Scott retract his challenge.

The werewolves weren’t responding to his words, so maybe it was time for action. Taking a deep breath, Stiles slowly walked towards Scott, his hands open and in front of him. Scott’s glowing amber eyes never left Derek’s. Reaching up gingerly, Stiles put his hand on the back of Scott’s neck and massaged the tense muscles gently.

“Hey buddy. Let’s just, calm down and talk about this okay? I really don’t need my dad to come home to a wreck where my room used to be.” Stiles felt Scott lean into his hand. Stiles continued the massage, grinning a little when Scott let out a quiet whine of pleasure; his claws shrank to normal nails and the teen werewolf’s eyes slipped closed.

Stiles slowly pulled him into a gentle hug, murmuring what he hoped were calming reassurances. “There, there. Yes, let’s relax. No need to, uh, fight and stuff. Ripping up the furniture…bad idea. Right? Right…” Okay, so maybe they weren’t the _best_ reassurances, but it seemed to be working.  
Suddenly, Stiles felt rush of air and _heat_ behind him. Derek. The older werewolf whined, almost begging for permission. Stiles could feel the Derek breathing hard on the back of his neck, asking. Grinning slightly, the teen reached back and pulled Derek in closer.

The two werewolves pressed against him gently, leaning into him. Stiles noticed that, as they lost themselves in the moment, the werewolves tentatively reached out for one another as well. One of Derek’s hands slipped under Stile’s shirt to stroke his sides, while the other covered Stiles’ hand on Scott’s neck. Scott reached around Stiles to pet Derek’s back, while pulling them both closer.

The extra heat from his brothers was getting a little uncomfortable, so Stiles slipped his hand from under Derek’s and started tugging his own shirt off. The two werewolves almost purred in pleasure and the rest of their clothes quickly flew off, leaving them all clad in their underwear. They tumbled together on the bed, pushing and pulling each other like a pile of enthusiastic puppies; luckily, the werewolves were careful to keep their claws retracted.

Soon, though, a wave of tiredness swept through Stiles. A quiet bouquet of scents seemed to surround him, bathing him in feelings of calm and safety, like when he and Scott had stayed at Derek’s place during the full moon. Stiles felt his brothers lulled by the mixture of their scents as well.

They would have to talk in the morning, about the Alpha and what it meant to be in a pack and why Derek did what he did. Stiles yawned widely. That discussion was for tomorrow; somehow, Stiles had a feeling the conversation would look better in the morning.

“G’night guys.” The werewolves mumbled in response, nuzzling closer at his neck and chest, their arms and legs loosely tangled around one another. _Ah, pack._

\---------------------

A bright light hit his eyes. With a groan, he turned away from the offending light. Maybe he could squeeze out a few more minutes of sleep. He knew it was a lost battle, but he had to try anyways. As he adjusted the blankets, he reached across the bed, petting the cool sheets next to him. _Still missing you…_ Smiling sadly to himself, he murmured a quiet greeting to the morning and the space next to him.

Giving up on sleep, the sheriff slipped out of bed and pulled on a bathrobe. Stretching, he felt more than heard his joints crack. If he was going to be up, he was going to make Stiles keep him company. At least the town had quieted down with the mysteries wrapped-up. It seemed like they had slipped into a lull over the weeks after the homicide/suicide at the Hale residence. Just in time for his first day off in weeks, too, with the paperwork from that mess finally finished. With another yawn, he headed to Stiles’ room.

Knocking on the door with one hand, he opened it with another and poked his head in. “Hey, Stiles. Get up and help me make some breakfast.”

He got a groan in response, as the bed’s occupant shifted around. The bed looked a little…lumpier than usual. A tanned foot slipped out from under the covers. Stiles’ feet weren’t that tan. Another shift in the bed and two heads poked up. One of them was Stiles’. The other was…

“…Scott?”

The two teens blinked at the man of the house owlishly. A groan came from under the covers and a third lump sat up in bed, pushing the covers down and revealing that the teens were not wearing much; and one, very naked (this fact seemed quite important) Derek Hale. In bed. With his son. It was the Sheriff’s turn to blink owlishly at the bed’s three occupants.

Stiles’ eyes opened wide as his sleep-addled brain finally caught up with the present. The Sheriff could practically see his son’s brain working, taking in his father in the doorway and putting that together with the two (Naked. Very naked, the sheriff’s mind unhelpfully reminded him) males in bed next to him.

“Dad!” he yelped. “Um…this isn’t… um…”

The sheriff turned around. _Too much naked for this hour._ “I’ll see you boys at breakfast. And, Stiles? We need to talk.”

\---------------------

As the door closed, Scott saw Stiles collapse back onto the bed. “Oh my god…” His friend hid his face in a pillow, probably hoping that that had just been a horrifically real nightmare. Grinning, Scott gently pinched Stiles in the arm.

“Hey, what was that for?”

Scott smiled cheekily. “Just checking if that was a nightmare for you.”

Stiles rubbed his arm, frowning at his friend. “You’re supposed to pinch yourself,” he grumbled. “And now my dad thinks I’m in a weird gay threesome with you two.”

Scott had to laugh at his friend’s melodramatics. “I’m surprised your dad hadn’t caught on weeks ago. I guess those ninja lessons have been working out, eh Derek?”

His alpha shrugged, stretching unconcernedly. “Maybe. Except you’re still like a tip-toeing elephant.”

Scott frowned, attempting to punch his alpha in the arm. Predictably, Derek caught his hand before he could reach. A small tussle ensued, the two werewolves knocked out of bed as Scott tried (and failed) to prove to Derek that he wasn’t an elephant. Panting, Scott was pinned face down with Derek on top of him. Scott laughed suddenly.

“You know, if he walked in right now, it wouldn’t do much to dispel the notion that we are in a threesome.”

He felt Derek shift a little, taking in their current position. Derek huffed a quiet almost-chuckle in response; in the several weeks they had been bonding as a pack, Derek's edges seemed just a little less rough and had made him just a little more approachable.

The older wolf had both of Scott’s legs tangled and pinned underneath his own, with one of the teen’s hand twisted back. But at least Scott had managed to trap one of the older wolf’s hands underneath him, so Derek didn’t have enough leverage to move much either. The hand trapped under Scott forced Derek to lean over Scott’s neck. And given their almost nude state of dress, it definitely looked incriminating.

“Yeah, except you’d have a snowball’s chance in hell of catching my interest.”

Scott struggled uselessly, turning his head to look at Derek. With an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows he asked, “What? I’m not your type? After all the nights we’ve slept together? See, I knew that you were just using me to get to Stiles!” Another useless struggle to free one of his legs. “But he was mine first!”

Derek shook his head in response, letting Scott up. “I’m sure your _hunter_ girlfriend would just love hearing you say that.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “You know, sleeping together has really mellowed you out.” He frowned. “And lay-off Allison.”

“Yeah, well…having a pack helps.”

“Hey, did you hear that Stiles? Derek said you were pack. Out loud. Looks like you lost that bet.” Scott craned his neck to look at his friend. He could just barely see the edge of the bed. All he got in response was a half-hearted hum. He frowned at the lack of response from his friend; normally, Stiles would have jumped on the rare acknowledgement that he was part of the pack. Scott felt the older werewolf move closer to the bed, probably also sensing something was wrong.

Scott sat-up and looked at the bed. Stiles was still lying on the bed, faced covered with a pillow. If it wasn’t for the heartbeat beating in time with his own, Scott would have worried his best friend had died of embarrassment or something. Walking over to the bed, he pulled the pillow off Stiles face. “Stiles? What’s wrong?”

Stiles opened his eyes, meeting Scott’s eyes. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Just. Thinking about how we’re going to spin this to my dad.” He closed his eyes again, turning his face away from Scott. “Maybe the gay threesome idea would work. We could say we were revisiting our last experiment together.”

Scott leaned closer, gently turning Stiles so they could look eye-to-eye again. “Stiles.” Scott searched his best friend’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

Stiles huffed in frustration. “Nothing.”

“Stiles. Seriously.” Scott gave him his I-might-be-thick-sometimes-but-I’m-your-best-friend-so-don’t-treat-me-like-an-idiot look. “What’s wrong?”

Letting out a long breath, Stiles looked away from Scott’s gaze. “It’s just…I don’t want to keep lying to my dad.”

Scott was surprised, but he pulled his friend close and wrapped him in a tight hug. “So we won’t lie.” He looked at their Alpha hovering nearby, silently asking for his support. Their eyes met and, after a moment, Derek nodded slowly. The bed dipped as Derek climbed in to hug Stiles from the other side.

“If you wanted to tell him, you just needed to say,” the older werewolf said gruffly, but he stroked the fuzz of hair on the back of his human beta’s head gently.

Stiles gave a quiet laugh in response, muffled against Scott’s chest. Neither of the werewolves asked why it sounded a little watery. “…thanks guys.” He cleared his throat. “So, who wants breakfast? My dad makes the best pancakes.”

\---------------------

The sheriff poured more pancake batter onto the skillet. He heard them moving around the room and he braced himself for the upcoming conversation. Just…what is going on? _Why were they… and…Derek Hale?_

He shook his head. If he was being totally honest, catching Stiles in bed with two other boys had left the father in shock. _What exactly am I supposed to say to him? To them?_ He flipped the pancakes. _“So, you’re gay. With you best friend, who has a girlfriend (maybe?). And the guy you wrongly accused of murder. Twice.”_

Moving the cooked pancakes onto a plate, he poured the last of the batter on the skillet. _And what exactly is Stiles going to say? “Oh yeah, turns out ex-convicts are my type.”_ The sheriff flipped the pancakes before that thought had a chance to go any further. _Not sure I can do this alone, Em._

_Not what I wanted to deal with this morning. _He glanced at the coffee machine, silently willing it to brew faster. _Stiles is going to bug me about drinking coffee, but dang if there was ever a time I need the extra caffeine...___

Moving the last of the pancakes onto the plate, he picked up his mug and the plate, dropping it off at the kitchen table before going for a cup of coffee. _At least it’s a darker roast._ He decided that the boys could make their own eggs. _Boys. All of them._ He snorted. Catching Stiles in bed with one boy ( _Much less two…_ ) certainly wasn’t something the single father thought he would have to deal with. Ever.

The sheriff jumped a little when he heard Stiles’ bedroom door creak open and footsteps coming down the stairs. He took a sip of his still-too-hot coffee to brace himself. Here goes nothing.

The three boys (fully dressed, thankfully) crowded in the doorway to the kitchen, watching the sheriff watch them. For a beat, no one said anything; they were all waiting for someone else to make the first move. Rubbing the back of his head, the sheriff decided to start.

“Pancakes are done,” he said, gesturing to the plate on the table. Stating the obvious, but at least it broke the silence.

Stiles glanced at the table and then back at his dad. Rubbing the back of his head (the sheriff smiled inside to see his son mimicking his habits), Stiles nodded uncertainly. He glanced back at the two boys behind him; something was silently exchanged between them. Derek nodded and Scott gave the sheriff’s son an encouraging nudge. Nodding in return, Stiles turned back to his dad.

“Dad. We’re not gay."

The sheriff blinked. _Why are they bothering to deny it?_ “Son, it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” He cleared his throat. “When I was your age, I admit I did my share of-“

“Dad!” Stiles scandalized face was enough to bring the grin out on his dad’s face. “Seriously. Too much information.” Closing his eyes, he scrubbed his face and took a deep breath. “We’re not gay. What you saw was….was a pack bonding exercise. I’m in a pack of werewolves.”

The sheriff blinked. _Okay…_ His training on how to handle a situation involving a potentially unbalanced and mentally ill individual came to the forefront of his mind. “Okay Stiles.” He really wanted to say, _“That’s…one of the worst lies you’ve ever told. Which is saying something.”_ What he said instead was, “So, you’re in a pack of werewolves. How long have you been in this pack, Stiles?”

His son rolled his eyes in response. “Dad, I’m not unbalanced or mentally ill. I really am in a pack of werewolves.” He turned to look at his best friend. “Scott? Show him?” Scott nodded. “And dad? Don’t freak out. Just…it’s, it’s okay.”

The sheriff looked at his son, before something about Scott caught his eye. Moving most of his attention onto the boy, he kept an eye on his son and Hale. They both looked tense, trying to watch both Scott and the sheriff, both of them somehow moving closer to Scott without seeming to move. But Scott…Scott was breathing heavily now, his eyes closed like he was trying to concentrate on something.

The sheriff frowned. Something about the boy’s face…were his bones moving? It was happening slowly, so slowly that the sheriff couldn’t even pick out the changes that were happening. But, somehow…somehow Scott’s face, wasn’t Scott’s face anymore. The bones of his brow seemed thicker. And his eyebrows were definitely getting bigger. And…where did those sideburns come from?

The sheriff took a step forward, worried that something was wrong with him. “Stiles? Scott? What’s going…on?” Scott had opened his eyes in response to his name, but instead of his normal brown, glowing amber orbs. “What the hell…?”

Stiles put a hand a hand on his friend’s neck, gently stroking. Scott seemed to lean into the touch, his breath deepening and easing in response. “You okay?” Stiles asked his friend. When Scott nodded, Stiles turned back to his dad. A slightly triumphant smirk graced his lips, but his eyes seemed uncertain. “Dad…Scott and Derek and I…we’re a pack. Of werewolves. Well, except, I’m not a werewolf. But that’s what’s been going on. With everything lately.”

 _They really didn’t cover this when I was learning to be a parent._ The sheriff stared blankly at his son, Hale, and the creature that stood where Scott had been standing. _No…that’s not quite right…_

“Dad…? Could you say something?”

Even with the changes, the sheriff could still see the boy that had grown-up with his son. The cheekbones were moved, yes, but the jawline was still mostly the same. And, even if they had changed color, his eyes still held…something of Scott in them. Looking at his son, the sheriff realized that he should probably say something. What was he supposed to say? _“So you’re in a pack of werewolves? Well, at least it’s not drugs!”_

The sheriff cleared his throat. “Um…I think we’re going to need a lot more pancakes while you explain this to me.”

Stiles stepped forward and enveloped his dad in a tight hug. The sheriff pulled his son close, hugging him back. “Thanks dad…”

“Don’t thank me just yet. I haven’t decided how long you’re going to be grounded for keeping this a secret from me.” Stiles just huffed out a relieved laugh and hugged his dad even tighter.

_Oh boy…and I thought raising a teen boy was complicated as it was. I really, really wish you were here to help…_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to continue this with an actual conversation between the Sheriff and Stiles (and probably the others as well). LadySilver pointed out in an earlier version of this that the Sheriff needs to figure out his role in his son's life, in light of recent events.
> 
> But I'll probably finish the 'Dating/Not dating' series first.
> 
> Thanks for reading. I welcome constructive criticism.


End file.
